


Hold This Thread

by snufflesfoot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, M/M, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, pining!arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snufflesfoot/pseuds/snufflesfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are ugly Christmas sweaters and adorable Merlins.  Arthur is sad that he doesn't have both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold This Thread

**Author's Note:**

> for [prince-pratdragon!](http://www.prince-pratdragon.tumblr.com) Happy birthday :)

Fuck. _Fuck_.

It's the sweater. No, no it's _the_ sweater. The stupid, ugly one his great uncle gave him that he hasn't worn since sixth year, when he finally realized he looked like a baby penguin swaddled in a monstrous cocoon of wool.

But now. Oh god, but _now_.

Now he had that perfect porcelain skin and mass of soft, fluffy, dark hair and killer cheekbones and adorably gangly arms that somehow manage to pull off a bright blue Christmas sweater with festive snowmen prancing across it.

"Arthur?" Merlin asks, probably a bit concerned at his blank, wide eyed face. "You ready?"

Arthur shakes himself and says, still dazed, "Right. Yeah. I'm ready."

"Ok, we gotta get to the other side of town, so we should get going," he says, and with a flash of teeth and a slam of the door, they're hailing a cab and sliding in.

Morgana was hosting a Christmas party, as per tradition, and the mandate was for everyone to wear Christmas sweaters, the uglier the better, with a contest to boot. Arthur had stopped questioning Morgana's decisions as he had long ago concluded that his sister was actually Satan's event planner.

Through the years, Merlin had always gone with the safe options, sporting sweaters with muted colors and boring designs, but it seems he decided to pull out all the stops this year. You know, just to torture Arthur a bit more than usual.

Because granted, Arthur's infatuation with Merlin had been something of an exponential situation, but this is just getting to be ridiculous.

"I see you've brought out the oldie again."

Arthur looks up from his thoughts, then back down at the sweater being referenced, his dark red monstrosity adorned with a jolly Santa and his leaping reindeer, a staple of four years now.

"An oldie but a goldie," he says, cracking a smile. "I see you've brought out the actual oldie. I haven't seen that one in ten years, mate."

Merlin blushes inexplicably, and quirks up the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I couldn't find the one I usually wear, so I just had to dig this one up."

Arthur nods, but internally curses the regular sweater to the fiery pits of hell for disappearing and causing him this unbearable distress.

~*~

They make it Morgana's, fortunately without Arthur exploding from the urge to reel Merlin in by that dreadful sweater and kiss his puffy pink lips, where Arthur is greeted with more unbearable distress.

"Baby brother!" Morgana squeals and squeezes him into a hug, which by her standards is "a fond hello" but by any sane person's is "hellish torture."

"Morgana," Arthur wheezily acknowledges.

"And Merlin! Look at you, you may even be competition this year," Morgana says, hauling Merlin in for a hug too.

"Thanks," Merlin rasps out, gasping for dear life.

Morgana has been reigning champion of the ugly sweater contest for as long as any can remember, felling all competition with the truly horrific weapon of a bright red sweater bearing an enormous Christmas tree with actual, legitimate lights that _light up_ and garlands that _pop out_. No one knows where one could find such an affronting piece of clothing. Not many care to find out.

Merlin and Arthur are ushered in and are at once swept up with the festivities. Or rather, the excessive drinking and general making-a-fool-out-of-oneself. Nothing says Christmas like raging hangovers and embarrassing pictures to go along.

"You made it!" Gwen says as she appears in front of them and shoves two sloshing cups into their hands. She's wearing her usual puke green sweater with a large, buck-toothed reindeer grinning up at them. Once upon a time, she was a serious contender for the Ugly title. But alas, no one can defeat The Christmas Tree.

She's also wearing Lancelot on her left arm, who in turn, is wearing a slightly less offending red and white sweater with multicolored presents. He offers them an affable smile and a cookie.

Merlin waves it away, but Arthur says, "Cheers!" and stuffs his face, which is, of course, the precise moment when everything shoots to hell.

"Merlin, look!" Gwaine says, coming up behind them and pointing at his red painted nose. "I'm a reindeer!" He leans in close and whispers -- or drunk-whispers, which isn't really whispering at all -- "You can be Santa and ride me all night long."

"I'm actually astounded at how bad that was," Merlin snorts and fails to feel the heat of the steam coming out of Arthur's ears.

"But ya love me anyway," Gwaine says, wrapping an arm around Merlin and thoroughly ignoring the murderous glares pointed at his direction.

Merlin rolls his eyes affectionately. "God help me, but I do," he chuckles, ruffling Gwaine's hair.

Gwaine laughs loudly and leans in again to whisper -- actually whisper this time -- something in Merlin's ear and Merlin laughs too, with his head thrown back and his eyes making little crescent moons.

Gwaine walks off with one last smile, but not before pinching Merlin's bum after which Arthur starts seeing lots and lots of red. Then he proceeds to drink his weight in alcohol.

Arthur doesn't remember much of the party after that. Mostly it's just a lot of hazy laughter and there might have been some kissing with a blonde girl who smelled like wet horse. Also, there might have been a cackle from Morgana when she had once again been crowned the Queen of Ugly Christmas Sweaters. There usually was a cackle.

The buzz is just starting to wear off when suddenly Arthur's being dragged into one of the guest room by a surprisingly strong arm.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelps, amidst much flailing. "What are you --"

""Well you were looking at Gwaine like you wanted to shove his face in the pudding," Merlin says conversationally, "so I kinda thought this was the best course of action."

"Wha -- I didn't -- I wasn't --"

Merlin raises an eyebrow.

Arthur pouts.

"He pinched your bum," he says, not at all whining pathetically.

Merlin raises the other eyebrow too, along with the corners of his mouth.

"Well, you kissed Vivian."

Arthur frowns. Horse girl?

"Besides," Merlin asks with a sly smirk, "Why do you care?"

"I -- I don't. At all. I don't ca --"

"Gwaine told me to jingle your bells."

Arthur tries to process this.  It makes his head hurt, so he finally asks, "Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," Merlin decides, and with that he shuts the door and pushes Arthur back into the wall.

And then it was just so easy to let his head fall back with a soft thump and let Merlin press against him, his hips jutting relentlessly and his lips nipping at Arthur's, making the sweetest little noises. Then Merlin's hand reached down and everything went a bit fuzzy for a long time, save for a loud snicker outside their door of, " _You better not break the fucking bed!_ " accompanied by a cackle.

Eventually they fall asleep, with Merlin's stilted breaths warming Arthur's neck and Arthur's fingers winding through Merlin's rucked up hair.

~*~

When Arthur opens his eyes, he rather thinks a rhinoceros is sitting on it. Along with a couple of her kids. Hell the whole family's having a party up there.

He groans and mentally curses alcohol to the ends of the earth. After flopping off the bed and struggling into the nearest clothes, Arthur pads into the kitchen where he is accosted by blinding sunlight and an overly smirking Morgana. Who proceeds to pinch his cheek and _coo_ like she's an over-indulgent aunt meeting her nephew toddler for the first time.

Rest assured, they are neither.

Arthur swats her hand away with an indignant, "Ow!" before his knight in shining armor comes out from behind the counter to save him.

"Morgana," Merlin says in a mock stern voice, wrapping his arms around Arthur from behind, "don't break him."

Morgana snorts. "As if I could break that great hulk."

Arthur pouts and Merlin squeezes his arms tighter together, though he's laughing in his ear too.

"Anyway, I was serious about you paying for the bed."

"We didn't break it!"

"But it _was_ a close call."

"Shut up, Merlin."

Morgana grins at the two of them again, and this time it's a little less evil.  Arthur's on his guard.

"By the way," she says, "I just _love_ your sweater, Arthur."

"Huh?" he says, looking down, "Tha --"

Oh. Oh, fuck. Fuck.

Where he expected to see a couple reindeer, there are merry snowmen bedecking a bright blue sweater.

"Eh," Merlin says, spinning Arthur around and tugging him in by the belt loops, "he loves it."

Arthur smiles into Merlin's hair as he winds his arms around him and thinks, God help me, but I do.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Undone (The Sweater Song)" by Wheezer.


End file.
